by Claire Adams
"I know. I need to be, too," he sighed. "This time we're making it stick."
"Third time lucky," I said, smiling.
"I love you."
"I love you," I said back. Our lips met again. He kissed me deeply before hoisting me up and walking us to the bathroom. He told me again as we made love in our huge multi-head shower, then again as we dozed in each other’s arms and fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Roman
Six Months Later
35 to 31. It had been close. Almost too close, but we had taken it. Only just, but it was still a win. That last whistle and the roar from the crowd never got old. At some point, I figured looking up and seeing walls of people everywhere I turned would feel normal, but it hadn't yet.
I had asked Ron to sit in one of the private boxes but she hadn't. She had been right up close in one of the field seats. I liked that she could see me from where she was, even though the boxes were safer and more comfortable.
I was so distracted looking for her I almost missed the question the man with the mic in my face had asked. I looked at him, smiled, and said thank you. Safe answer for whatever he could have said. It must have been the right one, too, because he kept talking. I tried to look over his shoulder back at the crowd to see whether I could find Ron.
"Can we expect this for the rest of the season?" the guy asked. This had to be the most boring part of this job. Talking to the press. They were kind of our worst enemy, but coverage was good. Good coverage was the best. Lord knew how easy it was to get bad coverage.
"Absolutely," I told him, giving him my practiced interview smile. We all had to do it, but they didn't media train us the way they trained us for the games. If you could schmooze, people liked you more. You sold more jerseys, and that meant your management liked you more. All in a day's work. The guy thanked me and took his mic out of my face.
Finally. I scanned the crowd, looking for where Ron had sat. Every time I had tried to look over at her during the game, the cheerleaders had been in the way.
I finally saw her, hair up, wearing her Hurricanes jersey. I jogged over pulling her down onto the field, past the rope barricade. She jumped into my arms, hugging me.
“You did so good, baby,” she said.
“That’s right. And, I’m not done yet,” I shot back.
She laughed. She couldn’t make all the games, and I didn’t expect her to, but she was always in the crowd supporting me when she could be. She was cordial with some of the other girlfriends and wives that came to the games, but she wasn’t exactly being invited to brunches with them. Not really her scene. She was almost done with her senior year – she had other things on her plate.
“Are they going to let you leave now?” she asked.
“After the press conference, for sure,” I told her. She nodded. I was glad she got it, but there were still things here and there I felt a little bad for making her put up with. Someone came up behind me clapping me on the back.
“Good game, Rome,” Marcus, our wide receiver, said to me.
“Don’t lie to him,” another guy, Luther, said. He played tight end. “Veronica, tell your man if he lets it get that close again, it’s his ass,” he said. She laughed. A number of the guys knew her from practices and games; she’d come with me to parties they had at their places sometimes. They’d give her shit, some would flirt with her, but she ran with it.
“I don’t know. He played pretty well from where I sat,” she said. Luther was holding the game ball, passing it between his hands.
“I think we need to start looking for a replacement. How’s your throwing arm?” he asked.
“Mine?” she asked, catching the ball as he tossed it to her.
“Now we know you can catch,” he said, grinning at her. “Come on,” he said, walking backwards, “give me your best throw.” She looked at me, holding the ball in her hands.
“Go on. Show us what you got,” I challenged. The ball looked huge in her hands. I was going to say with some confidence that she’d never tossed one of those in her life. She threw it, straight and long right at Luther. He caught it and came towards us.
“Damn, and that’s with no practice?” he said, gassing her up. Veronica laughed.
“Watch out, Rome. I might have a career in this,” she said, looking at me. Luther tossed the ball at me. I handed it to her.
“You know if that happened I’d be your biggest cheerleader.”
“Would you wear the little shorts?” she asked, grinning. I laughed.
“A skirt would be better, don’t you think? Easier access.” She laughed, and I kissed her. We cleared off the field and met up again after the press conference. We had come in separate cars since I had had to be at the stadium before her.
A few of the guys were going out to celebrate, but we had plans already. The team’s owner, Peter Goldman and his wife had asked to have dinner with us that night. He had chosen a place where a lot of players went often, so of course, dinner was half actually eating and half talking to fans and signing autographs.
We got back to the apartment, finally, at almost midnight. I had been on a high earlier, just after the game, but now, I was just glad to be home. Ron had walked in before me and was already bee-lining it for the bedroom. I followed her. She was in the bathroom when I fell face first into the bed. I rolled onto my back hearing her come out. She had tied her hair up and from what I could see through her clothes, taken her bra off. She crawled onto the bed and lay on her back next to me.
"You okay?" I asked her.
"I should be asking you that," she said, rolling onto her side, leaning her head on her arm so she could look at me. "How's the hip?" she asked.
I shrugged. I had strained my right hip a little a week or so ago and had been getting it looked at, and though it wasn't really getting worse, it wasn't really improving that much, either. I could walk, run, play on it, but anything that hurt and kept hurting was bad news.
"I asked for this. It's my job."
"You always say that."
"It's true."
You did good today. How did that feel?"
"I think I deserve something nice for it."
"Something nice? Like what?"
"How generous are you feeling tonight?" I asked. She sat up and straddled me. I held her hips and lined them up with mine, grinding up into her.
"Generous enough to offer whatever you want," she said, grinning. She leaned down and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her into my chest.
"I have everything I want," I said when she pulled away. She ran her finger down my chest.
"Really? Everything?"
"The list isn't that long. I have my job. I have you. We won our last three games."
"There's really nothing else?"
"Nothing I can think of right now. No. Right now? Everything's perfect."
"I'm glad that you're happy," she said, smiling.
And, I was happy. My hip was bothering me but so what? I was finally in the pros. I got here and I had Ron with me. I never had to choose. Once the season was out, we were road tripping to Houston. I had it all. I was fucking happy. Did this even get better? I didn't know, and it didn't even matter. This was where the hell I had been trying to get all my life. I had done it. Fingers crossed, I'd be able to say that for a long time.
Epilogue
Veronica
Two Years Later
"Ron... Ron, baby, wake up."
"Hm?" I said, disoriented. I heard Roman laugh. I squinted, trying to remember where we were. He was standing in the aisle with my hand luggage and his. I frowned as it came back to me. We were on a plane.
A man shuffled past Roman with his own luggage, and I realized we had landed. I was probably holding them up. His fault, I thought. He shouldn't have gotten us the comfort seats. I hurried to my feet.
"Okay?" he asked, kissing me.
"Let's go," I said, taking my bag from him. He let me walk out ahead of him. I exited the pl
ane, looking around the familiar small airport. I made a few trips back a year, usually during the holidays so we could spend them with family, but this was different. It wasn't Thanksgiving or Christmas, not even Fourth of July.
We were celebrating, though. Roman and the Hurricanes had just won the Super Bowl, not their first, but his. That deserved a vacation.
We were staying for a week. Not that much time, so we had a packed schedule. After doing the obligatory rounds with family, we were going to rent a cabin in the Black Hills forest for a few days. Since neither of us had our places here anymore, we were staying at a hotel, which I wasn't going to lie, I was sort of looking forward to. I had done the bookings. All I needed was for there to be a tub. We had a ridiculous tub at our place back home. Jets, big enough to fit a whole family – it was great. It had also spoiled me rotten.
We grabbed our suitcases and went through to arrivals to get a ride. I had my phone out, ready to get a cab.
"Whoa, what are you doing?" Roman asked me.
"We're not walking, are we?"
"No need," he said, pointing. I followed his finger, smiling when I saw Tiffany.
"I didn't know you called her," I said.
"She volunteered," he said. "This way we wouldn't have an excuse not to go see her."
Tiff had graduated and started a master’s program since we had been gone. She still lived with their dad. He wasn't in a hurry to see her leave, and she could save up for her own place that way. He had started seeing someone in the past year, too, which had shocked everyone because of how long he had stayed single after his wife, Tiff and Roman’s mom, passed. I hadn't had a chance to meet her yet, but maybe this would be the trip that I did.
I hugged Tiff first. We talked almost every day. Texts, phone calls – we were long distance, but she had made a few trips down to Miami since we'd been apart. She hugged Roman and walked us to the car. I sat in the back and Roman in the passenger side. I was still sort of tired, oddly, despite being knocked out for most of the plane ride here.
I watched the city pass outside the window. Things never seemed to change that much every time we would come back, which I secretly liked. It was like it was making sure it didn't leave us behind, become completely different and leave us floundering trying to adjust.
Tiffany was asking Roman how the flight was. "Let's just say first class was a good call," he said, looking back at me and smirking.
"You got us those seats so I wouldn't fall asleep? It's a seven-hour flight, what did you want me to do?"
"She passed out as soon as we were in the air. And didn't wake up till we had landed," he told her. I rolled my eyes.
"Next time you come down, get one of those seats," I said to Tiffany.
"Are you guys going to pay for it?" she teased.
Roman had offered, many times when Tiffany had been making trips to Miami to cover the cost of her ticket. She would never take it. At least she would stay at our house, though. House, not apartment. We moved out right when Roman's lease on the apartment was up to a place on the water. It was this big, a little too big for us, place with a pool and a yard. If you rolled out of bed at night and fell out, you'd end up in the ocean, that was how close to the water we were.
"Of course," Roman said.
"Can I bring a guest?"
"Dad doesn't count as a guest," he told her.
"I wasn't talking about dad," she said. I sat up in my seat behind them.
"What? Who is it?"
"Do you remember Casey?" she asked, glancing at me through the rear-view. I did remember Casey. Last time we had talked, the two of them had been on three dates.
"What's going on with you and Casey?"
"Who's Casey?" Roman asked, barely following along.
"Her boyfriend," I teased. She smirked happily to herself. I had never met this guy, but we had talked about him. She had even shown me pictures of him. He was cute.
"You're lucky we have two spare bedrooms," Roman said. I laughed. I wanted to see that. Roman mad-dogging Casey across the dinner table then giving him the spare room downstairs and Tiffany the one upstairs.
"Oh please, Roman," she laughed. "I'm twenty-three, not thirteen."
"Not under my roof. I love you, Tiff. It's the guy I have a problem with."
"You haven't even met him yet," she protested. I sat in the back letting them bicker.
"Where are we going?" I asked after a few minutes.
"Hm?" she asked.
"Where are we going? This isn't the way to our hotel." Roman was silent in the passenger seat.
"No?" he said. I looked at the side of his face; it was all I could see from where I was sitting.
"No, Roman. It's not," I said, a little sarcastically.
"We have a detour to make first," said Tiffany. Detour? I was looking forward to getting to the hotel. I wanted to wash the seven hours of flight off of me and maybe follow that with a couple more hours napping. Not to mention food. I was starving.
"Where to?" I asked. She didn't say anything. I looked out the windows, mentally tracking where we were going. "Tiff?"
"You'll see when we get there," she said, looking at me through the rear-view mirror.
"Rome?" I tried.
"Hm?" he answered. The same innocent, noncommittal sound his sister had made. I sat back in the seat, mostly giving up. The list of places we could be going were limited, anyway. It wasn't like this would be a surprise when we got there unless something major like a new mall or something had gone up. I watched outside the windows as we took the familiar streets.
"What are we doing here?" I asked as Tiffany parked.
I hadn't been here in years, literally. During all the visits we had made back home, we had never come back to the park for a picnic. Back home, at our place in Miami, we had sort of carried the tradition on, taking a basket down to the beach sometimes when it wasn't that windy, but the last time we'd been to our spot was... It had been when we got back together. The weekend before I moved to Miami with Roman. Roman got out of the car and came round the back to open mine. He offered me a hand and helped me out.
"I thought we'd do something special this trip. We're celebrating."
"You didn't want to go to the hotel and drop our stuff off first?" I asked.
"Tiff's waiting for us. It can stay in the car."
"Waiting for us? She's not coming?" I asked as he pulled me to follow him.
"Come on," he said.
"Where?"
"Don't tell me you forgot this place already," he said. I hadn't, I was just confused. Why was Tiff waiting in the car for us? What was happening? Why were we here instead of the hotel?
"Are we having dinner?" I asked lamely.
"Why? Are you hungry?" he asked. We started into the trees that lined the clearing we used to visit.
"Roman," I whined.
"Come here, I want to show you something." He was walking ahead of me. I had to walk kind of fast to be able to keep up with him.
"Show me what? Roman-" I was about to complain some more, but cut myself off.
We were there, our spot, but I it looked different the last time we had been there. The grass was perfectly manicured, lush healthy green like it shouldn’t have been this early in the year. It wasn't dark yet, but dark enough to see the light from the strings of fairy lights strung across the trees.
"Roman, what's going on?" I asked. There was a sheet of white rose petals sprinkled over the grass. He pulled my hand gently and walked us right to the middle of the clearing.
"What do you think?"
"I think it's beautiful... Who did this?"
"All I asked was that they get the flowers right, but the lights are a nice touch," he said.
"You did this?"
"Tiffany made it happen, but yeah. I asked her to do it."
"For us?"
"For you. Do you remember the last time we came here?" he asked me.
"It was a long time ago," I mused.
"Do you remember what hap
pened?" he asked, standing in front of me, taking both my hands in his. I blushed. I remembered. Clearly. Thinking back, I couldn't believe how often we had done it out here. Anyone could have seen us.
"I remember we got back together. Then that Monday I moved in with you."
"This is where it all started. I wanted to do this somewhere special."
"Do what?" I asked.
"I was holding off till after the Super Bowl to do this. I knew that I wanted that win and then we got it. I thought that would be it, but it wasn't. With the championship, and you, and our home, I thought I had everything I wanted. But I don't," he said. My stomach clenched listening to him. The last two years had been incredible.
After the summer that he got signed, we had had to get used to living together, me being this far away from home for the first time. It had been hard at times, but we were a team. We figured it out together. After what we had been through, we had learned the hard way that whatever happened, we wanted to do it together.
"What do you want?" I asked nervously. We had talked a lot about the future, but mostly, we were just taking it a day at a time. Roman's career was going great. I had graduated and after a year off, had started working on a second degree. We took trips together when he had the time off, and before his offseason training began this year, we were planning a trip to Puerto Rico. We were focused on what we had to be for now and I had always felt comfortable doing that. Till now.
"You, Veronica," he said.
"We're already together."
"Not the way I want," he said. He squeezed my hands, pausing before he sunk down on one knee. I swallowed, looking down at him. His hands left mine and went into one of his pockets. He pulled out a ring and looked at it in his hand, smiling.
"Do you know how long I've had this thing?" he said, looking up at me. I didn't know whether he wanted an answer, but words were failing me. My heart pounded. He kept going. "The only thing I still don't have is a wife and I think that needs to change," he said. He was smiling, but he was blurring in front of me because I was crying.
"You're the love of my life, Veronica Kanter. I could stand losing everything as long as I got to keep you. It happened twice, and I never want it to happen again. If you'll have me, I want to make you my wife," he said. Tears streamed down my face. He reached for my hand, squeezing it in his. "Ron. Will you marry me?"
